Pearls

I am a pearl kind of girl. Gemstones are lovely, but so… sparkly. And rocky. I like the mellow sheen of pearls, the subtle colors, the way they absorb body heat and seem to be alive when you handle them, and the fact that they come out of the water–I am a water sign, a Cancer, so my common birthstone is ruby but I can also claim pearls (for being a water sign) and moonstone (for being ruled by the moon).

Being a mystical sort of person, who likes to see patterns in life, I appreciate a strand of pearls as a symbol of the passage of time. Each pearl, like each place in time, reflects what came before and what will come after. (And, if you went to Catholic school, no, pearls don’t really reflect down!)

I was sorting through my jewelry drawer recently and realized that I have quite a nice collection. So, here they are. They are all cultured freshwater pearls, not a saltwater among them (alas).

White pearls. I wear the white pearl studs more days than I don’t. “Pearls are always appropriate.” Just be sure to wear strands of them in odd numbers, and never to wear pearl strands AND earrings AND bracelet all together.

Black pearls with pinkish-brown overtones. These disappear nicely around the neckline when I wear a black sweater.

Oblong black pearls on silver. This strand is opera-length or longer; I can wrap it around four times without it being tight at all.

Gray pearls with white gold and diamond dust. Even though their color is dark, these shine like stars.

Brown pearl in pink gold.

Zimmermania… and Whiskey

Funny that Teeni should tell me to knit a blankie for Pudding… I started one the day I got her, but she has shown such a disdain for all bedding that I gave up. She far prefers to cuddle up on the carpet under the sofa. Anyway, I have finally managed to buck my months-long streak of socks-only knitting by starting a very simple sweater.

It will be a Zimmerman sweater, probably the yoke sweater from Knitting Without Tears, though I may in the end feel inspired to make it a raglan instead. Maybe I will do a little cable going up each sleeve. Maybe. For now, I’m maybe halfway to the armpits and it is just mindless, glorious, soothing knitting.

I saw this yarn a few weeks ago on Crafty Eliza’s blog and fell in love. I just can’t resist those blue-on-brown heathered tones. Yum. It is Reynolds Whiskey, color 059. This yarn is frequently cited as a substitute for Rowan Felted Tweed, and I think that gaugewise, that is about correct. It is recommended to knit it on size US5 needles. I swatched it on US5s and then, feeling suspicious, on US4s. After washing, drying, and steaming the swatches, the two swatches were hard to tell apart with regard to fabric quality. Before washing, they seemed to be too open and loose, but the yarn–yes, the yarn bloomed, mostly when it was being steamed. So everything will be hunky dory.

I am amazed by how fast knitting goes when it is straight stockinette and one never has to turn the work or re-arrange two sets of circular needles. I think that this whole sweater will involve approximately as much knitting effort as two pairs of socks, for me. Let’s hope it will be worth it!

Winter blooms

I am in big trouble. Yesterday when I woke up, I opened my bedroom door and… Pudding wasn’t there waiting for me. I walked all over the house calling her. She wasn’t curled up on my chair in the study, she wasn’t under the sofa, she wasn’t in her bed, she wasn’t climbing the shower curtain. Wherever could Pudding BE? I was switching into serious panic mode when I noticed… that a certain door, which should have been closed, was ajar.

That’s right. Pudding… has learned to open doors. My house has handles rather than doorknobs, so I had thought that it was possible, but then decided that she wasn’t tall enough to reach. Obviously, I was wrong.

So, to what closed door did she apply her newly-acquired skillz? Oh, silly question. What OTHER room, but my yarn room? There she was, looking a little dazed and vacant, very much as if she’d just had a religious experience. Sigh. Anyway, on to the blog post proper…

After a couple of weeks of biting cold, we have had a bit of a relief lately, with temperatures consistently in the double-digits. I am hobbling through winter as best I can, here. A little retail therapy here, a little spicy fresh food there, some citrus fruit set out in bowls, browsing gardening websites for herbs and tomatoes and eggplant, dreaming of the warm weather to come. Recently, I decided that it was a good time to spoil myself with some fresh flowers. I waited three weeks for the supermarket to stock something worth buying, and then, there were two bouquets that were. Yum. The roses, though it’s hard to tell, are faintly green.

Mediterranean feast

Wil asks, Nihongo ga wakarimasu ka?

No, I don’t understand Japanese. I did French and Italian for proficiency, and Swahili for structural study. Field linguistics was out of said major professor’s hands, though, and we did Tigrinya. Hello Ge’ez, oh how I love abugidas!

We’ve been dwelling in the Far East around here, so let’s start a trek Westward. On the first night of the journey (having flown like the wind), we put down camp somewhere on the shores of the Mediterranean. For dinner? Well. The chef is, unfortunately, back on the Core program, so things aren’t going to be quite standard. They’ll still be tasty, though.

If I were not on Core right now, I would buy a tub of Athenos hummus and call myself finished with that part of things. Given that I am, though, I have to make my own. To make it conform to the program, I use here two cans of chickpeas (drained), two or three good dollops of fat-free yogurt, a couple tablespoons of olive oil, four cloves of garlic, a heavy pinch of salt, the juice of one lemon, and one large squeeze out of my tube of cilantro paste. Process for at least a minute–you don’t want any chunks of chickpea skin in your hummus.

The extra garlic and lemon, and the (rather innovative) cilantro, make up for not having the creamy-rich tehini here. It’s extremely edible.

Next, chop one hothouse cucumber and add a dollop of yogurt, a pinch of salt, and a couple of table spoonsof minced mint.

Mix it all up. You can substitute parsley or garlic for the mint, if you prefer, or you can dispense with the cucumber to make a tasty yogurt sauce, excellent with falafel or kofte.

Moving on, chop some tomatoes and add salt and one or two cloves of pressed garlic. Though you do want to eat all of this soon after you make it (because the garlic goes funny if it’s put away for the next meal), it’s nice to let this mellow for a half-hour or so while you’re doing other things in the kitchen. This absolutely must be at room temperature (but then, you wouldn’t put tomatoes in the refrigerator anyway, would you? No, of course you wouldn’t). Nigella has a Warm Egyptian Salad made with tomatoes that have been dunked in boiling water and then skinned. She also slathers it in olive oil–a Core no-no. Alas.

Finally, kofte (also spelled kefta). This recipe is from a Turkish friend of mine. To one pound of ground beef or lamb, add a couple handfuls of bread crumbs (dry oatmeal here, for Core), one large or two small onions grated, a couple large cloves of garlic minced or pressed, a dash of parsley, a bit of cumin and red pepper and salt. Mix together with hands, form patties and skillet-cook four or five minutes on each side. I usually get twelve patties out of this recipe.

About salads: any combination of cucumbers and tomatoes, dressed with olive oil or tehini or yogurt, flavored with mint or parsley or garlic, will fly.

About sauces: hummus makes a nice sauce for things, as does tehini. As noted above, you can also make a straight yogurt sauce instead of adding cucumbers to make a salad–though the cucumber salad stuffed in a pita with a couple of kofte is a lunch to die for. My Turkish friend would dress her kofte with warm tomato sauce.

(If there is a way to make Core falafel, no one has notified me…)

We’re all made of stars

Several months ago, Futuregirl posted about Lucky Stars. I’ve always had a soft spot for origami, especially the easy kind that one can get right on the first try and especially the kind that has some kind of special use or “meaning” in it. I have made several complicated kusudama, which adorned my many dormitory rooms in college, and many many paper boxes that still adorn my house and those of my friends. I can also fold paper cranes, and have been part of thousand-crane projects in the past.

After eight years of listening to Moby’s album Play more or less continuously, I finally shelled out for his album 18 a couple of weeks ago–and really have been listening to it continuously. The first track, We’re All Made Of Stars, reminded me of Futuregirl’s stars. I had to try them!

Lucky Stars are made out of a strip of paper, rather than a square. There was a short learning curve–it took me about three tries. The trick, I have found, is to suppress your origami-fu instinct to flatten all the creases, and let the star puff up as you wrap the strip. That way, it’s easy to dent in the sides.

Though I intend to investigate the lucky star strip-producing possibilities of the paper shredder at work, I’d also like to note that lucky star strips can be bought pre-cut (as these were) at very reasonable prices from Opane and from Toy To Go, as well as from eBay.

Like knitting, folding lucky stars is a nice, repetitive, meditative task, good to do while watching TV. Folding them is supposed to bring luck to the folder, and to the person one gives them to. I’m working on a jar for a friend, right now. Awesome

Tameshigiri (cutting practice)

Household Tips meme

Mmmm, Paris Pink. I took this picture on Sunday, when the sunlight was making the color just glow. The picture is, of course, not nearly as good.

Teeni tagged me for the Household Tips meme! Okay boys and girls, hold on to your hakama, because these are going to be… Japanese swordplay household tips.

1) Keep your bokken and suburito in your umbrella holder. It is exactly the size and shape to keep them, and they’ll be handy for thwacking all of those irritating people who ring your doorbell uninvited. Impresses visitors, too.

2) Use an oxygen bleach EVERY TIME you wash your gi to keep them bright, bright white.

3) After washing your hakama, don’t put them in the dryer. Hang them on a skirt hanger and finger-press the pleats; they will dry into shape and require no more attention.

4) Start carrying a small notebook and a pen with you when you go to the dojo. Mr. Obata’s book covers everything you need to know for ichimunji, but very little else. Use your kiuke to jot down new things you’ve learned so that you can study later. You’ll never again kirikaeshi when you ought to makiuchi.

Pudding-san approves.

Ryan’s Salmon

Whew. That was quite a thing! I posted from home, sick, on Wednesday of last week. I was also out sick Thursday and Friday, then didn’t stir from home all weekend, and have spent this past week grossing out my co-workers with racking coughs and Olympic-quality nose blowing. On Thursday evening I finally hit the Ten Days Sick mark at which doctors will take one seriously, and got some antibiotics. I am feeling slowly better now, thanks very much

Between the fever and the congestion–which turned into a sinus infection–I didn’t have much of a sense of smell or taste for a week, nor much appetite for anything. Food just hasn’t been interesting, not even chicken tikka masala at the best local Indian restaurant. Today, Saturday, was my big day to finally shop for some food and make myself something I would like to eat.

It is still the deep and dark of winter, here. It is still dark by 5:00. I am growing more and more restless for the Spring–warm air, sunshine, long days, and plants growing are my chief desires. I can’t have them, of course. For something fresh and piquant and inspiring, food is a good bet. Let’s give you a closeup of that salmon…

I have given you the recipe for Diana’s Minestrone, so we will call this Ryan’s Salmon. Something that everyone agrees about, about Ryan, is that the dude knows what’s good to eat.

A fillet of salmon, a whole ginger root grated, green onions, soy sauce, black pepper, and three tiny drizzle-trails of honey. Bake at 400 until fish is just done–opaque but flaky, not at all dried out. If it’s iffy when you check it, take it out and let carry-over cook it the rest of the way. DO NOT dry this out!

When Ryan made this, he served it with a potato and chickpea stew, topped with avocado. I decided to eat it Nigella Temple Food style, with a side of sauteed bok choy. Oh, my goodness darlings. After ten days of nothing interesting to eat or taste or smell, to take a mouthful of this tender/flaky/oily salmon, cut with the acerbic ginger and salty soy sauce, contrasted with the still-crunchy green onion…? Oh goodness.

Pudding was even drawn out of her sunbeam to investigate the delicious smells.

Sick day

Ugh. I thick. I tried to go to work this morning and lasted ten minutes. I had to come home and spend the day here…

Tissues, Chloraseptic, laptop, and cat–all check. I was set for the day. Except that one is supposed to “stuff a cold,” which I eventually found it necessary to do.

Fortunately, I happened to have some interestingly-colored new potatoes on hand, as well as mushrooms, tomatoes, and eggs. Fry up!

And puddy tat loyally slept by my side alllll day. I think everyone should have a cat that matches their furnishings so well, don’t you?

Twelfth Night

Goodness. So much to catch up on here, dears. It is Twelfth Day, so it is high time to finish out all of the holiday blogging and buckle back down to business.

First of all, on Christmas Eve, as soon as I had finished the Monkey Socks I cast on for a new pair, using some of my brand-spanking-new Raven Clan yarn from Blue Moon Fiber Arts. This colorway is “Rook-y”, and it is glorious. Sometimes I hanker for numinous, ethereal pastels–sometimes I hanker for riotous brights–but now, in the cold and dark of midwinter, I hanker for magical blacks.

The stitch is just perfect–it is called Embossed Stitch, and it’s easy as punch.

Rows 1-2: P, K
Rows 3-4: K3, P
Rows 5-6: P, K
Rows 7-8: K, P, (K3, P) across

My Christmas cactus wasn’t quite blooming for Christmas, but it was full-blown for the New Year. This cactus was given to me in a dormitory holiday gift exchange during my second freshman year. At one point, I picked off two leaves to keep for myself and gave the plant to a friend. In the years and years since then, those two leaves have grown back into a new cactus. I will repot it, as soon as the blossoms die off.

Having some time ago acquired all three kinds of cup-and-saucer sets (coffee cups, tea cups, breakfast cups), I decided that I want to branch out into tea glasses. As far as I know there are three kinds of tea glasses. Russian tea glasses sit in metal holders; Turkish tea glasses are hourglass-shaped and come with saucers; and Moroccan tea glasses…

… are fabulous. Colored glass and a riot of complicated patterns? Yes please! My ADD aesthetic just can’t resist. The glasses were a Christmas present, and the silver teapot I bought with Christmas money from my grandmother. I need to give a Middle Eastern dinner party, with my hummus and falafel and kofte and tzatziki, and end it with these glasses full of mint tea, and broiled figs in honey and orange blossom sauce. Mmmmm.

My other favorite present this year was an apple peeler/corer/slicer. I first saw one of these on Yarnstorm Jane’s blog, and I mean, come on? Who wouldn’t want one of these? You put the apple on…

… crank it through to the end…

… and end up with an apple Slinky toy!

Jane observed that, since she had gotten one of these, her family had been eating more apples–which is certainly true of me, also. The machine is so fabulous and works so well, and for whatever reason, I find it so much more gratifying to eat the rings of apple and then nibble on the ribbon of peel, than to bite into a whole piece of fruit. Well. Anyway.

Last night, I had some friends over to watch a movie and to get Pudding used to having company (and let me tell you, nothing arrests the attention of a party like a cat emerging from under the sofa), and one friend is just back from The Boonies of Saskatchewan. My parents had their fishing cabin in The Boonies for years, but it was a well-and-gravel-pile kind of Boonies, which is hardly the Boonies at all. These Saskatchewan Boonies were the haul-water-and-chop-wood kind of Boonies, which is serious business. Anyway. After two weeks of chopping wood and, when he had spare time, baking, said friend is back and distributing such fabulous and exotic curiosities that I can’t hold them back from you. Falafel and tzatziki? Boring stuff.

Behold the Butter Tart. I knew they existed but had never had one before.

And behold the Plum Pudding. Yes, the boiled kind. Can you believe it? I haven’t ever had this before, either.

Now, on to what you all really care about: Pudding.

She’s doing fine. She is settling in. Every day brings something new, sometimes adorable and sometimes not. Pudding claws the furniture for the first time; Pudding has a hairball for the first time; Pudding eats packing tape and horks it up for the first time; Pudding goes to the vet for the first time. On the other hand, there has also been Pudding flops on her back to get her belly scratched; Pudding touches noses with me; Pudding sits outside my bedroom door waiting for me to come out; Pudding falls asleep on my lap. You know. Shucks. I’m really rather fond of her.

I think she’s a keeper.

Third helpings of Pudding

You know that this isn’t going to turn into a cat blog, right? You understand that it’s just those first heady days of love, right? Right. Good. Now: more Pudding!

As of last night, Pudding is officialy Out. She doesn’t like to hang out in the utility room anymore… now she prefers to stay under the sofa (rolleyes). She does have marked periods of activity in the morning and again late in the evening–so I trust she’ll come out again tonight.

This morning, she made herself comfy in the study, including right in front of the computer I was trying to work at. Yep, I’d always heard that that happened. Nope, it hadn’t ever happened to me before.

In the comments, Wil asks if her missing eye is congenital or if she lost it. She did lose it. Soon after being admitted to the shelter in July she came down with a bad cold, which turned into an eye infection, which became so bad that her right eye had to be removed. Fortunately, the left one cleared up just fine. I will forever wonder if… if I had adopted her as soon as I moved to town, would it have saved her that eye? The answer is, probably not. The cold was well underway when I moved here, and as she was at that time being kept separately from other cats, it isn’t as if being at the shelter caused it. Oh well, as the New York Times reports, ruminating on paths not taken is an emotionally corrosive exercise and the common wisdom about regret appears to be true.